


Letting Go

by bleedingheartshow



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedingheartshow/pseuds/bleedingheartshow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot decides to talk things out instead of doing what he does best.  Nate's grateful for that.  Missing scene from "The Snow Job".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta nightcamedown who is amazing and gives the best advice ever. Any mistakes remaining are my own. I seem to have a thing for missing scenes. :)
> 
> Originally posted on 8/21/2010 on my Livejournal.

Nate was polishing off what was left in the bottle of cheap-ass brandy he’d bought at the nearest liquor store when he heard someone knock quietly on his door. Glass in hand, he made his way over to it, hitting his shin on the coffee table in the process and almost spilling the remaining amount of liquid on the floor. He swore under his breath. 

Nate twisted the handle and cracked open the door. “Sophie, if you’re here to lecture me or ask any more fucking questions,” Nate started to say, but was interrupted by Eliot shoving himself through the doorway. He looked just as pissed off as when Sophie kicked them all out of the room earlier and that, that, Nate thought, was not a good sign.

“Go skip some fucking rope? That’s what you say to me? You’re a fucking mess,” Eliot said, gesturing at the empty liquor bottles on the table.

Nate sighed and took a sip of the brandy. “Relax, Eliot. It’s under control. I’ve got a plan.”

Eliot laughed, pacing the hotel room. “Well, your plan so far fucking sucks, man. You got money for our client. That was the deal. Then you decide to change the plan, to help all the other victims. You want to help people, I get that. But what’s got you so riled up about these guys, huh?” Eliot walked up to Nate, staring him in the eyes. “Why’d you meet with Scott alone?” 

Nate gave Eliot a bemused look.

Eliot snorted. “Okay, I get why you met with Scott alone in the prison - it’s not like any of the four of us could have waltzed in there to do the consult with you - but why there? Why didn't we meet with his wife back at headquarters?” Eliot moved even closer, looking up at Nate. The scent of brandy wafted in the air as Nate slowly exhaled. Eliot didn't look away. “What did Scott say to you? You haven’t stopped drinking since you met with him.”

Nate stared at Eliot, trying to decide if he should tell the truth or tell the man a lie to get him to go away. Maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe because he was starting to trust Eliot, but he decided on the truth.

“He asked me if I had any kids. I said I did. He said he was sorry, and that he knew I had done everything I could for my kid. And then he said that when you need help, they let you hang and it’s your kid who pays the price.” Nate tried to bring the glass up to his lips for another sip, but Eliot stopped him halfway, taking the glass from him. Nate could’ve resisted - he still knew his way around a fight - but he didn't have the energy to take on Eliot. Not now. And Eliot would have kicked his drunken ass all over the hotel room.

Eliot walked across the room and placed the glass of brandy down on the table, looking back at Nate. “You could have told us, you know. It’s not like we weren’t going to figure out something was going on. You can’t hide from your own team.”

Laughing, Nate pushed himself off from the wall and walked over to the swivel chair, sitting down and twisting towards Eliot. “I thought you said you didn't care if I drank myself into a coma.”

“Yeah, well, it seemed like the right thing to say at the time. You pissed us off, Nate. You’re endangering our lives. You know what success means to me, Nate? It means getting out alive. But you start relying on other people...” 

“Especially when the guy in charge is a drunk,” Nate volunteered.

“Especially when the guy in charge is a drunk, and that makes me nervous.” Eliot sat down on the couch across from Nate. “I know I don’t know the whole story. Your story. Sam’s story. But I do know a little something about pain. About guilt. And no one deserves to be carrying around this much guilt, Nate. You did everything you could.”

“I didn't,” Nate whispered.

“What was that?”

“I said I didn't. There were other treatments. Other things we could have tried. Maybe if I had been there for him instead of in Paris chasing Sophie or tracking down the millions Hardison had swindled from some client, things would have been different.” Nate realized how pathetic he sounded and knew he would be embarrassed if he wasn't so drunk. Why was he sharing all this with Eliot, anyway? He looked at Eliot and noticed the other man’s eyes had softened. At least there was that - Eliot no longer looked like he wanted to punch him in the face. Being hit in the face certainly wouldn’t have helped tomorrow’s inevitable hangover.

“How many cases like this before you allow yourself to let go, Nate?” Eliot asked, quietly.

“Can’t let go. It’s all I have left.”

Eliot sighed and rose from the couch. “It’s not, Nate. Maybe you can’t see it now, but you will. Just try not to fuck things up too much, okay? You don’t need the weight of four more deaths on your conscience.”

Eliot nodded at Nate on his way to the door. “See you tomorrow.”

“Hey, Eliot?” 

Eliot turned, his fingers grasping the door knob. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for not punching me in the face,” Nate said. Eliot gave a little laugh as he opened the door and let himself out.

Nate reached into his pocket and dry-swallowed two aspirin. He had a plan and he knew it’d work. He wouldn’t fail them. Not yet.


End file.
